So far from this part of a mate's duties being irksome or wearying, it will usually be found that it is the most joyous part of an active seaman's career. Given a well-found ship, so that it is possible to do justice to her up-keep; two or three men among the crew who can "sailorize," that is, work with rope and wire as required; a master who will let them do their work without public interference--and a mate may be, and often is, as happy as any man ought to be in this world. For consider how many delights he has. A big sailing ship to a man like that is just a hobby on a large scale, a beautiful thing for whose welfare he has the most solicitous regard. An "Irish pendant," _i.e._ a ragged end of yarn fluttering aloft, makes him feel as badly as would the sight of one of his children walking in the park with torn stockings and shoes down at heel make a gentleman ashore. An accident, such as the blowing away of a sail or the snapping of a spar, gives him no such pang, because he has a stern joy in putting forth his skill and proving in how short a time he can restore his pride to her trim appearance again. I have a very vivid recollection of an old mate with whom I sailed when I was a boy who was an almost perfect type of the man I mean. I have no idea how long he had been in the ship, but I know that he struck me as being a perfectly contented man, to whom his work itself, not the result of it, was the passion of his life. We were bound from London to the West Indies, and enjoyed the usual fine weather after entering the tropics--so fine that, as far as handling went, she, the old barky, might safely be left to herself except for steering. One morning at eight bells (8 a.m.) the mate appeared on deck with a radiant face. The forthcoming watch, as they slouched one by one into the sunshine from their darksome cavern, tightening their belts or giving a final touch to their simple toilet, muttered one to the other, "Looks as if he'd got something extry-special on hand this mornin'. More nigger-driving," etc. But it was only the orthodox growl. They did not look displeased. The next minute the mate was amongst them, his orders flying like hail, and in half an hour the look of the vessel was entirely changed. He had persuaded the master to allow him to shorten all the standing rigging, which was of rope--not wire, as is universally the case now. For such a crew it was a tremendous task, but it was pure sailorizing, such as a man could take an interest in, and the younger members of the crew would have an opportunity of actually seeing done what they had hitherto only heard talked about--such operations as turning in deadeyes, re-bolstering, lower-rigging, etc. All hands took matters so well, being really infected by the mate's amazing energy, that they forgot to growl at being kept on deck in their watch below in the afternoon.